Disclaimer: Everything in the wonderful universe where this story takes place belongs to J.K. Rowling.
Underneath the refuge of nightfall, two hunched figures, one tall and the other short and stocky, converse in harsh whispers. They stand across the street from a relatively small house, its dark windows a sign that those inside the house have gone to bed.
"You sure this is the place?" whispers the short one.
"Yes, this is the place, though I can't be sure the girl is inside," replies the tall one from behind a frightening mask, almost but not quite identical to that of the figure beside him.
"But you're sure her parents are here? This will mean nothin' if there's no one to witness it," the short figure says, glancing behind him with a paranoid look at the sound of a stray cat jumping onto a trash can.
"I've been informed by multiple sources that they are indeed here. The girl, however, could be anywhere. The Mudblood is involved with that despicable Harry Potter." He spits the last two words with evident malice.
The short figure furrows his brow and tenses up. "Just hearing that name makes me want to find that boy, point my wand, and give 'im somethin' far worse than any killin' curse. That's been attempted twice now, and hasn't worked either time."
"Believe me, I feel the same way, especially after what he did to the only person who had any sense in this world. But this will show Harry Potter and all his followers that just because our fearless leader was martyred, it doesn't mean that we're no longer around."
"Shhh! Keep your voice down. The Order could be watching this house." He continues, knowing that the darkness will lift soon. "So, how are we gonna go about doin' this? We gonna kill 'em? After all, they're only muggles," he whispers, drawing his wand.
"No. At least, we won't be using the killing curse on them. We only want to send a message, remember? We'll set the house ablaze with the fires of our passion!" the tall one says, pounding his fist in the air.
"Shall I send for more?"
"No, no more. Just the two of us tonight. Two Death Eaters are enough. There are hardly any of us left nowadays." He places a hand on his comrade's shoulder. "But we shall grow in numbers once again, and we shall finish what our master started, purifying all Wizardkind. It might not be today, nor tomorrow, but our actions tonight will ignite a spark. A spark of revolution!"
Without uttering another word, the two figures creep toward the quiet house. With a simple uttering of "Incendio!" the house begins to burn, the fire crackling as it rises higher and higher. The two Death Eaters stand and admire their work, the incandescent glow of the flames reflecting off of their gruesome masks. They stand there for a moment, then with a wave of their wands, they vanish, leaving behind a Dark Mark in the sky along with the rising smoke.